He shook his head and any sting he might have felt about the next he said was taken away with his rueful but also admiring grin.
“No matter how much he’d fuck up, and he was a master at it, he’d come out smelling like roses.”
“Did you play football?”
He nodded his head. “Tight end.”
“But not captain?” I asked warily.
He looked confused. “Well . . . yeah.” Then he grinned again. “And I was dating the homecoming queen and already banging her, so I didn’t have to sneak a go in the locker room.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for my wine.
After I took a sip, he said, “Dad was the shit.”
I put my wineglass back and prompted quietly, “Yes?”
“He wasn’t sunlight and moonshine and kitten fur, spätzchen. He was motor oil and beer and NASCAR racing. He didn’t miss a single one of our games. He gave us the talk and told us he’d break our necks if we disrespected a woman. Then he gave us condoms. He also gave us Margot and Dave, and their sons were older than us so he gave us three older brothers and big Thanksgivings and Christmases and Easter dinners. He wept when his father died and sobbed when he lost his mother, but way before that he told us only stupid men hide emotion. There’s strength in being who you are and feeling what you feel and not giving a shit what people think. He said one of the worst things a man could be is inauthentic. He told us never to willfully break a woman’s heart because there’d come a time when a woman would break ours and we’d feel what we’d made her feel and we wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt. He loved us and he showed it. He was proud of us and he showed it.”
He looked to my wrist and slid his forefinger between my skin and my mother’s bracelet, turned his hand and gently curled it around the inside of his first knuckle.
“And I wept when he died and every year on the anniversary, I take some of his ashes to the first place he took Toby and me fishing and I put them in the creek and feed the fishes in the moonlight,” he finished.
“That’s beautiful, Johnny,” I said softly.
He turned his head to me. “I should have taken you with me. He woulda liked meeting you.”
As my hand rose of its own accord, my body swayed forward the same way, and I curled my fingers around the warm, firm skin at the side of his neck and I pressed my lips against his.
I pulled back but I didn’t go far.
“So I wish I’d had your mom and I wish you’d had my dad,” he murmured.
“Instead, we found each other,” I murmured back.
“Yeah,” he said.
“She would like you but she would not like you grilling a chicken breast and a steak for five people,” I informed him.
The white of his teeth cut through his beard. “Don’t know how to grill tofu, babe.”
“You sadly will never have the chance to eat one of her homemade veggie burgers. You might swear off beef for the rest of your life.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“They were really good.”
“You didn’t swear off beef,” he pointed out.
“Mm,” I mumbled.
He started chuckling.
He cupped the side of my head, kissed my mouth and leaned away so my hand dropped.
He took a sip of beer.
I took one of wine.
When I’d swallowed, he said, “Now’s the time to take this shit light.”
I gave him a small smile. “Agreed.”
“So what’s your favorite color?”
I started giggling.
Then I told him, “The rainbow.”
He stared at me a beat before he burst out laughing.
When the laughter was waning, he asked, “How could I have guessed that?”
I tilted my head to the side and shrugged.
He shook his head and took another swig of beer, so I took another sip of wine.
When his bottle and my glass were back to the bar, I stated, “Let me guess. Red.”
He looked at me and shook his head.
“Blue?” I guessed again.
He nodded. “Though there are stipulations.”
My brows rose. “Stipulations to your favorite color?”
“Yup,” he replied and went on, “Trucks, black. Dirt bikes and ATVs, yellow. Snowmobiles, black. Tees, they just have to be kickass. Jewelry I’ll give a woman, gold. Lacy underwear with garters, black or red. Teddies, black, red and I’ll throw in pink, which, babe, is the only way I like pink.”
“I think I need to go underwear shopping,” I muttered.
“This would not go unappreciated,” he replied.
I averted my eyes and took another sip of wine.
He chuckled again.
When I put the wineglass back to the bar, he asked, “Ever been on a dirt bike?”
“No.”
“Wanna try?”
“Yes.”
“ATV?”
“No.”
“Wanna try?”
“Yes.”
“Snowmobile?”
I shook my head.
“Try it?”
I nodded my head.
His lips hitched.
“Do you have all of those things?” I asked.
“Drive my truck up under the mill in winter and that’s where that stuff stays year round when I’m not using it.”
“Ah,” I said, not yet having wondered what that space was used for and glad I didn’t have to start.
“You gonna nurse that wine until you die?” he inquired.
“In a hurry?”
“You goin’ home tonight after I’m done with you?”
My nipples started tingling but I said, “I probably should, honey. If Addie’s still up, she might want company.”
“Then yeah, I’m in a hurry.”
I took a gulp of wine and my eyes got big when I swallowed it.
He chuckled again, leaned in and kissed my neck.
He leaned back and shared, “You don’t have to glug it, baby.”
“We’ll have to be quiet tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“So I have to glug.”
Another lip hitch.
I took another gulp.
And when I did, Johnny burst out laughing.
Johnny had mounted me.
I was on my hands and knees and he was curled over me. One arm straight, hand in the bed, fingers linked with mine. One arm angled over my shoulder and slanted across my chest, his hand cupping my breast. He had his face stuffed in my hair that had fallen over my shoulder at my neck. He’d ordered me to touch myself, something I was doing. And he was thrusting inside.
It felt good, like it always did with Johnny. The best.
But it was more, surrounded by Johnny, the strength of him, the surety, the power, the safety of him, all of that covering me, penetrating me.
I had my head back pressed against his shoulder, my eyes closed, my lips parted, my breaths heavy, coasting on all he was giving me, letting it sweep me away, letting him take me there.
My climax was fast approaching.
I opened my eyes, about to call his name.
And that was when I saw us reflected in the windows to the balcony.
We were perpendicular in the bed, facing straight to the windows.
I hadn’t noticed that before.
But now I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
I could see the muscles of his shoulders moving with his thrusts. I could see his dark head stark against my lighter hair. I could see my thighs splayed wide in order to take him inside. I could see my face harsh with sex, filled with need.